


We Look Like Monsters to You?

by Croik



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Outlast (Video Games), Silent Hill (Video Game Series), The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Horror, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-04-22 07:37:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croik/pseuds/Croik
Summary: In 2017, Ethan and Mia Winters survived Evelyn and the Bakers.  Sebastian Castellanos rescued his daughter from STEM.  A secluded compound of religious fanatics in Arizona ripped itself apart through madness.  It all happened under the watchful eyes of an ancient order, which now stands poised to bring about the Armageddon its modern comrades had promised.This is a crossover between the Resident Evil, The Evil Within, Outlast, and Silent Hill game series, taking place after each of their most recent games.  And everyone is doomed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out Outlast the Silent PsychoHazard. Or Out-Evil the Hills Within. Or whatever smushnames you can think of, put them in the comments!!
> 
> I've wanted to do a large scale horror crossover for a long time, and with all these franchises in a holding pattern until their next release (I'm so sorry SH ;_;) now seemed like a great time. Fair warning, this is going to be an EXTREMELY self-indulgent fic, full of all my favorite characters, doing crazy shit in the spirit of these delightfully wicked and silly games. I've tweaked each of the franchise timelines only just enough so that they can occur concurrently, and tried to be as canon-faithful as possible. However there are a few fudges I've made, especially to the epilogues of each, which will be laid out in the fic. 
> 
> I'd say you don't have to be familiar with every one of these games in order to follow the fic, but it would definitely help, as there are going to be a ton of characters and plot points referenced. I'm also yoinking some characters from the Outlast comic, though not all of its circumstances (aka Simon Peacock is a major character but he didn't kidnap Paul or his daughter). There are a lot of characters that are only going to show up in the tags as they appear because that's just how I roll. Please also take that Major Character Death warning seriously.
> 
> Thanks again for checking out my fic, I hope we can have a lot of fun with this one :D

In the summer of 2013, the six member council of the Simmons Family, self-proclaimed guardians of modern society, met to watch as Tall Oaks was obliterated beneath the payload of two American bombers. One hundred percent mortality of all human life—and non-life—confirmed. Another viral outbreak laid to rest beneath a mountain of casualties, while they sat in the shadowed chamber of a remote mansion, calculating.

“No one is saying that this was the plan,” said the eldest of them, a gnarled, sagging crone of a man seated at the table’s head. When he tapped his fingers, the brass signet ring bearing his family’s crest jostled on his thinning finger. “Nor is it an ideal solution. But what choice did Derek have? The truth cannot be revealed.”

“Which truth?” goaded his daughter next to him. “That he’s utterly lost his mind? If we had an agent on the inside he should have put a bullet in President Benford, not created an entire _new_ Raccoon City for us to cover up. There is a limit to what the public is able to accept when it comes to conspiracy.”

“His obsessions have guided the resources of this family for too long already,” agreed another. “There are reports now that this ‘Carla’ of his is running lose in Lanshiang. How long before that becomes another international incident?”

“He has always gotten results in the past.”

“But at what _cost_?”

“Cousins,” interrupted the youngest of them, and their attention shifted, the air growing tight. Sitting opposite their elder was a man in his early forties, brown hair slicked back, his suit a simpler, more modern cut than his peers. “I don’t think anyone will argue that Cousin Derek’s position as National Security Advisor has been anything short of a boon to us. But let’s not kid ourselves: this is a disaster. The C-Virus is no more stable than any other alphabet project Umbrella and its remnants have churned out over the years, and it certainly hasn’t brought us any closer to our goals. The public outcry over this will ruin whatever security Derek thinks he’s bought us. He cannot be trusted to lead this family any further.”

“You are not a Simmons,” the old man said warily.

“In name? No. But by blood?” The man stood, gesturing as he made his way slowly around the table. Five pairs of eyes measured his every move. “Let’s be realistic: this isn’t a question of pedigree, it’s a question of ability. You’ve seen the good work done by me and my siblings. Each of us is uniquely poised to see our ambitions realized in this new age. The humanity of today craves technology and ideology in equal measure. What good will monsters and mutants do us as we look to the future? What benefits have we gained from these shambling monstrosities Spencer left us? Profit?”

He scoffed, pausing behind the chair of the elder’s daughter, who watched him more closely than any of them. “That old fool gave us promises of immortality,” he taunted. “And where does he lie now? Where as I—”

“Mr. Blaire,” the elder interrupted impatiently. “Speak your point.”

Blaire smirked as he continued round the table. “The point, Great Great Uncle, is that we cannot depend on Derek Simmons. We cannot depend on viruses and mutations that evolve us _backwards_.” He stopped just beside the old man and placed his palms on the table, facing the rest of their assembly. “This is not the time for _playing_ god,” he said. “This is a time for God itself. And on that score, you know I can deliver.”

“I agree,” said the daughter, and watching her father glance to her in alarm was a delight. “We’ve all seen the latest projections from the Blaire family’s efforts. Each of them is very promising. If any one of them pans out, we won’t have to worry about fallout ever again.”

The other figures around the table nodded as well, and the elder sighed. “Then I see you’ve already come to a decision.”

“It must be unanimous,” Blaire reminded him as he circled back toward his seat

“Very well, then.” As Blaire settled at the opposite end of the table, the old man leaned forward and took a deep breath. “Then it is the decision of this council that Derek Simmons is to be removed from leadership of this family,” he said. “A new leader has been chosen. Let us continue forward in unity, to preserve the order of this world.” His comrades nodded with conviction.

“Amen,” said Blaire.

-Years Later-

When Ruvik awoke in his new body for the first time, it was with water in his lungs, coughing and bleary beneath overwhelming fluorescent lights. Hands grabbed him from all sides, the sensation mortifying. Finally, he could feel, but their gloves were coarse, their grip bruising. Someone jabbed a needle into his neck and his eyes went black.

The next time Ruvik awoke it was a tube down his throat keeping him from taking a breath. His sight was bleached white and his body was made of agony. He couldn’t move a muscle, but there were no hands holding him—only a prickling, red-hot weight, pinning him down. There were needles in his arms and in his skull and he waited, full of hate and panic, for a scalpel to pierce his chest. He remembered this—he could survive it again. He was that used to pain.

Someone spoke to him. Their voice was a raspy growl against his too-sensitive ears but it was difficult even to wince. Very gradually, the mutterings solidified into syllables, his brain rushing to catch up and arrange them to words.

“If you can hear me, blink your eyes.”

Ruvik did so, and it _hurt_. He had no idea that eyelids could hurt. He tried to seek out the speaking man but everything was white. He would have thought that blindness would bring darkness.

“If you can hear me, blink once,” the man said, and Ruvik despised him, but he followed the instructions. “Now, blink twice. Blink once. Good. If at any point you don’t understand me, close your eyes, and I’ll stop until you blink again.”

Ruvik tried to move his hands, but he wasn’t able to manage much more than a twitch of his thumb. His senses didn’t entirely clear but he did become more aware of his position: he was lying down on his back, something propped under his head, maybe a pillow. The air stung with chemicals and other than the man’s voice he could make no sense of the whispers of ambient sound around him. It had to have been a lab, maybe even his own.

_Mobius_ , Ruvik thought, and he seethed helplessly. _They were waiting for me._

“My name is Simon,” the man continued. “Do you know your own name?”

If only Ruvik could move, he would have carved it into the man’s soft tissues. He blinked twice, and again when Simon said, “It’s Ruben Victoriano, isn’t it? You probably won’t believe me now, but I’m here to help you.”

Ruvik tried to take a breath on his own, but the machines cramming his throat and chest prevented him, and the effort made him shudder. Something touched his shoulder. “Don’t try to move or speak. You’ve been under heavy sedation for a long time. Your muscles have atrophied. Without these machines, you’d be dead, and even with them you don’t have much time left before your internal organs fail. You’re dying, Ruben. But I’m here to help you.”

Ruvik closed his eyes. _No, this body is mine_ , he raged behind his voice. _Don’t you know how hard I worked to get it?_ He tried again to move his hands, his feet—anything—but no part of him would obey. His jaw ached from the useless attempt at putting his teeth through the plastic in his mouth At long last, he opened his eyes and blinked.

Simon started to talk again. “You’ve been in a prison here for the past three years. They’ve kept you in a secure facility, studying you. Your brain is still in good shape but the rest of you is dying. We’ve already killed all their scientists working here, so if we leave here without you, you’ll die. The only way you survive from now on is with our help. Do you understand?”

_Killed?_ There was no reason to believe him, but Ruvik couldn’t have stopped listening even if he wanted to doubt this stranger, so he blinked again.

“Good. Is it ready?”

“Yes—I set it up like you showed me.”

The second voice sent Ruvik’s mind reeling. He couldn’t place it, but the familiarity pierced through him, and he was overcome with a memory of tiny twinkling lights in a sea of black. There was no holding onto the memory when his vision was still blindingly white, but he felt it all the same, like a pinpoint in his finger. Was it one of the Mobius workers after all? Who else had a voice he would recognize?

“Normally, a human wouldn’t survive atrophy this severe, even with years of therapy,” Simon was saying. “But I don’t just need you alive, I need you functioning. So there’s only one option: I’m going to inject you with an experimental drug. It’s going to speed up your natural protein synthesis to repair your muscles, while we also flood your system with artificial proteins, amino acids, vitamins, steroids. It’s going to take several hours before you can even breathe on your own and I imagine it will be excruciating. But it’s the only way you’ll survive. Do you understand?”

Ruvik blinked. He had no fear for pain. He heard a rustle of movement, and within seconds he could feel the drug burning its way through his Cephalic vein toward his heart. He thought again of scalpels biting into his flesh. But then something touched the top of his head—fingers smoothed his hair away from his forehead, hair much longer than he remembered.

“I know what they did to you,” said Simon. “And I’m going to make every one of them pay for it. I promise you that.” It was music to Ruvik’s ears.

As Simon had warned, it took hours. Ruvik shuddered on his back and listened to his muscles knitting themselves back together. Simon remained nearby for most of it, sometimes sharing a few words with his mysterious partner, but no more with Ruvik. Maybe he was trying to be patient and encouraging, but Ruvik would have preferred not to waste time and continue with his explanations. He had never let pain stall him.

At long last, he could move his fingers. His skin stretched, dry and cracking, with every motion. His senses began to clear and he could smell the rot of bedsores, could finally make out blurred shapes of his two benefactors. One by one the pieces of his neglected body fell into place, prickling as if needled insects were crawling over every inch of him. His hate sustained and focused him throughout the agonizing process, and by the time Simon removed his intubation tube, he could breathe on his own in deep, gagging mouthfuls of cold air.

“If you try to speak, take it slow,” Simon advised. “It’ll still be a while before you’re even close to functional.”

“Who?” Ruvik croaked, but he couldn’t manage more than that at first. Instead he tried his eyes, which were gaining function with every passing minute. When they watered, he was finally able to wipe them clear, and he looked to the dark silhouette beyond Simon. It was starting to take shape—he knew this man. He could _feel_ him just beyond his sight.

“My name is Simon,” he introduced himself again unnecessarily. “One of Murkoff’s lab rats, like you. You’ll understand once you can see me.”

Ruvik squinted at him. Though he was finally ready to recognize the man’s Australian accent, he couldn’t make out his features other than a smear of a dark face beneath a hood. “Who is...Murkoff?”

“Oh, that’s right. You’d know them as Mobius, I suppose. Two maggots from the same hive.”

“Ruben,” said the second man, and Ruvik’s attention latched to him. “When you’re up for it, we need to know everything you do about Mobius.”

“Come closer,” said Ruvik, rubbing his already sore throat. “Let me see you.”

The man hesitated, and as he stepped closer, Ruvik became more convinced than ever that he knew him. As soon as he was in range Ruvik lashed out, snagging him by the wrist; his coordination was so poor he almost missed, but though the man flinched he didn’t try to escape. The clammy sweat beneath Ruvik’s palm chilled him, and he felt with sudden clarity the shape of a weak mind that had once been soundly under his command.

“The other detective,” he said, fascinated. “Joseph?”

“Joseph Oda,” he confirmed, and after an awkward moment, he slipped his arm free. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember.”

“I remember all of it,” said Ruvik, and he did. He burned with curiosity for what the inside of poor, fragile Joseph Oda’s mind looked like now, having somehow survived his harrowing ordeal in the depths of STEM. He could almost feel it, even—a soul already cracked open to him, lying just beyond the reach of his fingertips like a twinkling star. “I remember you.”

“Then I want you to tell me what really happened at Beacon.”

“There will be time for that later,” said Simon, and he urged Ruvik to lie back again. “Take a few more minutes while we finish here, and then we’ll leave.”

Ruvik relaxed into the bed. He still couldn’t see well but he caught an odor of decay when Simon leaned over him that spurred his curiosity all over again. Then the men backed away, leaving him for a little while.

_How much does Joseph remember?_ Ruvik wondered, probing gingerly at the needles still in his arms. _It cannot be much, if he’s here to rescue me._ He smiled to himself. _Or maybe he enjoyed his time as my plaything._

From there Ruvik devoted himself to taking stock of his healing body. His limbs were still far less steady than he would have liked, and his skin felt like a husk, somehow dry and oily at once, like wax paper stretched over his muscles. His back itched where Simon’s drug worked at healing his bedsores. He had every intention of studying the substance at the first opportunity—he was no stranger to atrophy, and well appreciated the progress the drug had afforded him, even if he was impatient to see his recovery complete.

Nearly half an hour later, Simon and Joseph returned. Ruvik thought he heard Joseph speaking to someone via a phone or radio, but neither offered an explanation as they began the process of separating Ruvik from the rest of his life support. Once every needle, catheter, and sensor had been removed, they worked him into a pair of clean scrubs, and Joseph scooped him off the bed.

“I can walk,” Ruvik protested.

“No, you can’t,” said Simon. “Give it time.”

Simon pulled a large duffel bag over his shoulder, and the three of them left the lab together. Ruvik did his best to take note of the surroundings, but he wasn’t able to discern anything useful or noteworthy about the facility that had served as his prison. _Three years_ , he thought, and he quaked with fury. _After all Mobius had already taken from me. I will see them pay._

“Are you all right?” Joseph asked, shifting his grip.

Intrigued, Ruvik wrapped his arms around Joseph’s neck, as if needing the added stability. Feeling Joseph tense was unexpectedly fascinating. “It’s ironic, isn’t it,” he said. “That you would carry me out of here, after everything.”

“I don’t remember ‘everything’,’” Joseph confessed. “I want to hear it from you.”

“And there’s a lot I want to hear from you. For instance, what became of your partner.”

“It’s a long story.” They moved into a hallway dyed red with emergency lighting, and along the way Ruvik was able to make out bodies slumped against the walls. Some were dressed as guards, others as scientists. Joseph stepped past them without a second glance. “But I guess it’s a long drive. We’ll have time.”

They exited the facility, and as soon as cool, fresh air touched his cheeks, Ruvik shivered all over. Soft wind and dwindling sunlight struck him, so mundane and yet a strange emotion swelled in his chest, strangling him. The Mobius facility was nestled into a forested hillside, affording a sweeping view of an orange-hued valley, dirt roads stretching in ragged curves into the mountains. Finally, he had the triumph of his freedom. For the first time in his life.

“Put me down,” he said.

Joseph did so, but he stayed close enough to catch Ruvik against his side when his legs failed to hold all his weight. Still, even the concrete beneath his toes felt like an awakening. He drank it in, still shaking as his five senses clicked into working order, breath heavy in his lungs.

Simon turned toward him, and seeing him for the first time, Ruvik understood so much after all: Simon was barely human. His skin was leathery and rotten, full of cracks, and chunks of his nose and jaw were missing. His deep-set eyes were bloodshot and yellowed and his breath whistled through holes in his throat. Though he was otherwise covered in heavy clothing, Ruvik had no doubt that the rest of him resembled a mummified corpse as much as his face, and he was both intrigued and infuriated by speculation of what tortures Simon had endured at Mobius’ hands.

“What is it you want from me?” Ruvik asked. He glanced back to Joseph as well, and in the natural lighting could see that he looked rougher than they’d last met as well, his hair shaggy and eyes hard. “You both risked a lot coming here for my sake. You must have some use for me.”

“We do,” Simon admitted. “We want you to help us destroy Murkoff—Mobius—all of them. No one knows the STEM like you do.”

Ruvik flushed with heat. “Mobius has the STEM?”

“They’ve improved it,” said Joseph, and Ruvik bristled. “And they’re using it, right now. If we don’t stop them, a lot of people are going to die or worse, and soon.”

“Worse,” Ruvik echoed, impressed that Joseph had that much respect for his work. “STEM was never meant for them. I’d destroy every last one of them to keep it from their hands. ‘Worse’ is what they deserve.”

Simon nodded with approval. “Then we’re in agreement. Let’s go—we can get you better clothes and some food on the way.”

“And answers,” Ruvik replied as Joseph let him climb onto his back. “I want to know what they did to you.”

“And answers,” Simon agreed, and he led them away from the building. “I’ll tell you everything.”

***

“They recruited me straight out of grad school,” Mia began slowly. Ethan’s hand was slack in hers but she held tight anyway, trying to find comforting familiarity in the lines of his palm. “I was doing my thesis on the transference of energy between parasite cells recovered from the Ashley Graham incident. Dr. Chambers recommended me. But she couldn’t have guessed who they really were, what they were really after.”

She could feel Ethan staring holes through her, but she didn’t look up. She couldn’t bare to. Having finally been released from a rigid sanitation process after their ordeal with the Bakers, they had been allowed to reunite in a hastily prepared quarantine away from the bayou. They sat together on a bare cot, side by side in their borrowed scrubs, listening to pockets of gunfire far off in the distance. But he still wouldn’t hold her hand. She tried not to look at the scar circling his wrist.

“Christ, Mia,” Ethan said. “How could you?”

“I didn’t know what they were after at first, either,” she said, choosing her words carefully. After everything they’d suffered she hated to have to lie to him even more. “And by the time I understood the scope of the project, it was too late to back out. You don’t say ‘no’ to these people.”

Ethan tried to pull out of her grip. “You should have told me.”

Mia grabbed him with both hands, preventing him. “This started before I even met you. How could I?”

“After everything this world has come to?” Ethan insisted angrily. “All the shit we’ve seen on the news even before this? And you’d willingly work for people like that—you’d _lie_ to me about it?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Mia finally raised her head, but she wasn’t quite ready for the look of anger and hurt Ethan was fixing her with, and her heart pounded. “It’s not as simple as you think. It wasn’t like this when we started out—the entire point of the project was to create a weapon that would _minimize_ casualties and—”

“Real bang-up job you’ve done. Seriously, Mia.” At last Ethan shook free of her, and he rocked forward on the cot as if to leave entirely, but then he stopped himself. He rubbed his eyes. “Fuck. I don’t know what to say.”

“I never wanted you to be involved,” Mia said, because that was the one thing she wouldn’t have to explain or qualify. “You were never supposed to be here—I’d never do anything to hurt you. Please believe at least that much.”

Ethan sighed. He looked back to her, and after a few, excruciating moments, he offered a crooked smile. “Yeah. I do believe that much.” It was the most Mia could hope for, and she smiled back, on the edge of tears.

Plastic rustled loudly beyond their tent, and both looked up as a brunette man in full combat gear stormed through the quarantine tunnel and into their chamber. He had a long face and deep set eyes that snapped to Mia immediately. She had never seen him face to face before, but she recognized him immediately, and her blood went cold.

“Redfield,” Ethan greeted, blinking. “Aren’t you...not supposed to do that?”

“We don’t have time for protocol,” he replied without taking his gaze off Mia. “Dr. Winters. You don’t know me, but—”

“I know who you are,” Mia interrupted, and she grabbed Ethan’s hand up again, clinging to it. “Please don’t do this.”

“Mia,” Ethan said, a sudden conflict in his voice. “Just do what he says, okay?”

The soldier held out a hand to her impatiently. “Facility Eight has been breached,” he said. “There’s been a breakout. I have orders to get you secured.”

But Mia couldn’t move—whatever Facility Eight was, she knew very well what he actually intended. _If he takes me now, I’ll never see Ethan again_ , she thought. _And God only knows what they’ll do to him._ “He doesn’t know anything,” she tried again, a cold panic clawing at her lungs. “I’ll go with you, but please, just let him go. Let him go home.”

Ethan shot her a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t have time for this,” the soldier muttered, and he moved swiftly, grabbing Mia by the arm and hauling her from the cot. His hands were hard enough to bruise and Mia stumbled, trying to keep a hold of Ethan even as she was dragged toward the exit.

“Hey!” Ethan followed, and though bewildered he tried to pry Mia free. “Take it easy!”

The soldier turned. Up close Mia could see there was blood flecked all over his dark uniform, and his expression and breath were hard, as if he were keyed up and expecting a real fight. He drew his pistol, and she knew who the bullet in the chamber was for. Before he could brandish the weapon, Mia lunged, throwing as much of her weight as she could into diverting the muzzle away from her husband.

“Mia, stop!” shouted Ethan, but he didn’t understand that his efforts of drawing her back were putting him in greater danger. She couldn’t fight against the both of them, and she could do nothing as the soldier raised his gun, his face a cold blank as he aimed directly at Ethan’s head.

A gun went off, its report not loud enough to be the pistol at Mia’s ear. With impeccable aim a bullet carved through the soldier’s forearm, and he jerked back, cursing. Mia didn’t wait to see where it had come from; she threw her weight into Ethan, and with him already pulling they both tumbled to the ground. _One bullet isn’t enough_ , she thought as she smothered Ethan beneath her, and sure enough, she felt the stab of a .38 in the back of her shoulder a moment later.

Gunfire erupted in all directions. Mia ignored it, covering as much of Ethan as she could. Garbled voices shouted orders and the entire tent rocked with an almost deafening rustle of plastic. Ethan tried to push her back but she only held on tighter, her shoulder burning. When she glanced up through her hair, she could see more soldiers rushing by as if giving chase, and one dropped to his knee beside her.

“Easy,” he said, obscured by his gas mask. He braced a hand to her shoulder and she clenched her jaws against a cry of pain. “I’ve got you. Stay still.”

_He could be another of them_ , Mia thought, and she tightened her arms around Ethan’s neck as he struggled beneath her. _They’re here to kill him because of you_. “Please don’t,” she croaked. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Mia?” Ethan tried again to wiggle free, and when she wouldn’t let him, he reached around to add his hand to the one staunching her wound. “Jesus! Are you all right?”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the new soldier said, and Mia’s arm was beginning to throb so badly she couldn’t stop him from drawing her away from Ethan. “I’m with the BSAA—we’re here to help. I need to get better pressure on that shoulder.”

Ethan crawled free, and as soon as he was upright he drew Mia against him so the soldier could tend to her wound. “Mia?” he said again, sweeping her hair out of the way. It was a gesture so absurdly tender she suddenly couldn’t stop crying. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. Just take a breath.”

“That man you were with,” the soldier said as he ripped Mia’s scrubs away from her back. “The soldier. Do you know who he was?”

“He was—Fuck—” Ethan gripped Mia’s hand tight, and for a sick moment she was grateful for having been shot. “I thought he was one of the good guys. He said he was Redfield. Chris Redfield.”

The soldier took a pack from the pouch on his belt and began sealing it over the gunshot. “Son of a….” He shook his head. “That wasn’t Chris Redfield.”

“He works for...the same people I did,” Mia said quietly. “He’s a mercenary.”

The shredded wall of the the tent parted, and two more soldiers entered. Mia tensed at the sight of their guns out, but neither made an attempt to shoot them, at least not yet. “He’s gone back into the quarantine zone,” said the leader, and he began removing his mask. “We need to regroup and go in as a unit if we’re going to have any chance of tracking him down. It’s still a mess in there.”

The mask came off, revealing yet another hard-faced soldier with brown hair cut short. But his jaw was blunter than the soldier before, his shoulders broader and limbs sturdier. Mia had seen his face in debriefing files a dozen times before. _He_ was the one you looked out for.

With her wound fully dressed, Mia sagged deeper into Ethan’s side. “ _That’s_ Chris Redfield,” she said.

“And you must be Dr. Winters,” Chris replied. “I have a lot of questions for you.”

***

“I understand,” Juli said into her headset. “I’ll let him know.”

She hung up and took a moment to compose her thoughts. All around her the STEM chamber hummed and buzzed with a dozen agents and techs buzzing with it, scrambling for answers. The Union City they’d spent years creating had gone dark, utterly beyond their reach, and their options were wearing thin. And they had a new problem on their hands.

Juli pushed away from her desk and approached The Administrator. He, at least, had managed to uphold impeccable composure despite the crisis situation. Was his confidence really that great? Juli couldn’t wait to blast that little smirk off his face.

“Sir,” she reported beneath the eyes of the agents flanking him. “A report just came in that Facility Eight was breached. They think it was Oda.”

The Administrator’s eye gave a twitch; finally something human snuck out of him. “And Ruvik?”

“Gone, sir.”

Juli expected a bit more concern, but then The Administrator relaxed into his sofa. “He won’t survive on his own, and there’s nothing Oda can do by himself. We’ll send a team out to put them down. There’s no point in keeping Ruvik alive now that we have a functioning STEM anyway.”

Juli glanced over her shoulder, where all The Administrator’s science personnel were fretting over the _non_ -functioning STEM. “...Yes, sir. But given the circumstances, I don’t know that we can afford to stall any longer.”

The Administrator narrowed his eyes at her; normally she wouldn’t have pushed where her advice wasn’t welcome, and she warned herself not to do it again until the time was right. But after a moment he nodded. “Go collect Castellanos,” he said. “We’ll prep the STEM for him.”

Juli’s heart gave a thud, and she fought to keep the anxious hope out of her face. “Yes, sir,” she said, and before she could give anything away, she turned on her heel and left. _It’s now or never_ , she thought, eyes all across the room following her out. _If anyone can get Myra and Lily out of there, it’s Sebastian. We planned for this._ She took a deep breath. _I hope he’s up to it._

In the fall of 2017, a desperate Mobius turned to Sebastian Castellanos to recover their mysteriously damaged STEM. For the sake of his daughter, he agreed, and as he had done before, he battled past an army of corrupted monstrosities, deep into the recesses of a child’s mind where Myra awaited. After having been reunited for the first time after many painful years, he put a bullet in her and said his goodbyes.

And Myra said hers, in spectacular fashion. She sent a pulse out through the global transmitters meant for STEM, activating each of the subcranial implants Mobius used to monitor and control its followers. Every worker within the STEM facility, from the janitors up to The Administrator itself, dropped dead in seconds, their brains scorched and eyes bleeding.

It didn’t stop there.

The complex web of agents and spokesmen that Mobius had spent decades building crumpled in an instant. Hundreds of thousands of chips distributed worldwide to anyone with deep enough pockets to avoid being swept up in a virtual reality apocalypse seized up, killing their hosts. Politicians, industry leaders, billionaires. The President of the United States and half his cabinet, entire committees of the Senate and House. The governing board of Murkoff Corporation and most of The Connections. A quarter million machine cogs laid to waste by the failsafe that would have allowed them to govern a hypnotized globe.

“No one is saying that this was the plan,” said Blaire as his Great Great Uncle slumped over the table, gurgling. “Nor is it an ideal situation. But I wouldn’t be in charge of this family if I wasn’t prepared to make the most of it. Would I?”

“You…!” the old man croaked, blood oozing from his eyes and nose. “Bastard…!”

He twitched and fell still. Blaire waited a moment, just to be sure, and by the time he pushed to his feet a door was opening behind him. In walked Tatiana Gutierrez, dressed in a handsomely tailored suit, her hair flowing. She viewed the self-proclaimed guardians of society strewn lifelessly about their table with an arched eyebrow.

“It looks like Myra did your work for you,” she said.

“Honestly, this wasn’t the plan,” said Blaire with a shrug. “They didn’t necessarily _have_ to die for us to succeed. But I have never been one to ignore an opportunity.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek; she allowed it. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I know you couldn’t.” Tatiana joined him in leaving the room. “And you’re going to need my help again very soon. Peacock and Oda are approaching Site Seventeen, and they have Ruvik with them.”

“That sounds exciting, but I might have better use for you elsewhere.” They stepped over the prone bodies of the chamber guards and continued out of the mansion. “And our man in Louisiana?”

“Engaged. He may need some assistance.”

“That can be arranged.”

They exited the mansion into dull morning light, fog on the lawn, a car waiting for them in the circular driveway. As soon as they were settled in the back seats it pulled away, speeding them off toward preparations already long in motion.


	2. Chapter 2

Simon and Joseph took turns doing the driving. Ruvik sat in the back, eating baby food.

“Your stomach can’t handle anything else yet,” Simon had explained. “I hope you’re not planning on drinking coffee anytime soon.” 

“Of course not,” Ruvik had muttered in reply, jabbing at pureed carrots.

It was a long drive through twisting mountain roads, pointy trees climbing at steep angles up jagged cliff sides. Heavy clouds blotted out any attempt at light from an already waning moon, so there wasn’t much to see for a recluse’s first venture into the outside world. But the headlights gleaming on unfettered wilderness served Ruvik just fine.

“I used to work as a journalist,” Simon explained when it was his turn to drive. “I guess you’d say I’ve been a conspiracy nut my whole damn life. Came to the states some ten years back chasing shadowy corporations and corrupt politicians. Exposed a few. I was pretty good at it, for my time.”

“And that’s how you learned about Mobius?” Ruvik asked, poking at different patches of skin along his forearms. He was still greatly intrigued by his body’s healing progress and impatient for more answers as to how Simon had accomplished it.

“In a way. I thought I was chasing Umbrella’s stragglers. After old man Spencer was finally confirmed dead, a whole lot of parts started moving again. Plenty of leads for someone like me to follow.” Simon sighed, his knuckles making a creaking noise as he gripped the steering wheel. “That’s when it all started coming together, but I couldn’t make sense of it at first. And by the time I got close, I was  _ too _ close, and they pulled me in.”

“Umbrella?” Ruvik frowned, combing back his unkempt hair with his fingers. “I’m only vaguely familiar with that name.”

Simon made a quiet, incredulous noise. “They really didn’t let you out much, did they?”

“They were a pharmaceutical company,” Joseph explained before Ruvik could retort. “But that was mostly just a front for their research into biological weapons. When it finally came out what they were doing, the government shut them down.”

“And yet they apprehended you, Simon?”

“It’s complicated.” Simon shifted in his seat, and from the tilt of his head it looked like he was watching Ruvik through the mirror, but there was nothing of his face to see. “The short version is that ruining Umbrella didn’t change anything. Their viruses are still in the the world, and there are others: Murkoff, Mobius, The Connections. At first I thought they were each other’s competition, but then I found out who runs them.”

Joseph reached back, handing Ruvik a tablet. “Adam and Jeremy Blaire,” he said as Ruvik glanced over photographs of two men in their mid to late thirties, dressed in business suits. “Top administrators in Mobius and Murkoff, respectively. They’re brothers.”

Ruvik narrowed his eyes on the former, and his already poor meal churned in his stomach. “Being family does not mean they’re not also in competition,” he said.

“Maybe so,” said Simon, “but at the very least, it connects them. They’ve stayed away from viral research, but I  _ know _ they have ties with Umbrella and The Connections as well. They’re all part of the same conspiracy, the same web. And we’re going to expose them.”

“We,” Ruvik repeated. “The three of us.”

“The four of us,” Simon corrected him. “But you’ll meet him soon enough.”

Ruvik swiped through the rest of the tablet, past pictures of other men in suits, building fronts, blueprints, maps. There were even a few pictures of Beacon, saved from what looked to be news websites, with police cars and ambulances parked outside the entrance. “Is it Sebastian?”

“No,” said Joseph, his tone stiff. “Why are you so interested in him?”

“He’s an interesting man.” Ruvik zoomed in on one of the Beacon photos and could barely make out a familiar figure among the gathered police. “He’s not dead, is he?”

“No. But he’s under heavy surveillance from Mobius--we can’t get close to him.”

Ruvik lifted his head, made curious by Joseph’s increasingly uncomfortable tone. “That must be a heavy burden for you,” he said, plucking deliberately at Joseph’s strings.

Joseph’s shoulders hitched, but then Simon cleared his throat and said, “I think it’s your turn to share now.”

Ruvik put the tablet aside and leaned forward; he was still interested in watching Joseph’s every reaction. Something in the back of his mind told him he could even still  _ feel _ him. “From the sound of it, you know more about Mobius than I do. What do you think I can tell you?”

“You know the STEM,” said Joseph, turning in his seat to face him. “Why it was made, what it’s capable of.” His eyes narrowed. “And what happened to me in there.”

Ruvik frowned, but he didn’t see a point in lying to them. “The STEM is capable of anything,” he said, doing nothing to hide his pride. “In my hands, at least. I created it to join minds together, so that they could share stimulation, memory, even consciousness. It was the cornerstone of my research.”

“Research into mind control?” Simon prodded. “Because that’s what they’re using it for.”

“An unexpected result. What use would I have had for that?” Ruvik glanced between them, and his voice hardened. “It wasn’t my intention to do  _ anything _ for Mobius. I even took steps to keep them away from my creation. But when their greed and desperation grew too great, they came for me, just like they did you. They butchered and  _ used _ me. But you must know that already. I have every reason to want them destroyed as much as you.”

Simon nodded, but Joseph still looked unconvinced. “You still haven’t come close to answering  _ my  _ question,” he said. 

Ruvik shifted his focus. How fascinating it was, to remember having crawled beneath the man’s skin, making a puppet of his fragile insecurities. He was very curious to know what Joseph remembered before giving up any truth of his own, but it seemed he had reached the end of his patience. 

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Ruvik said, calculating. Surely it couldn’t be that much harder to manipulate Joseph from the outside than from within. “I know what tortures you suffered in there. Inside the STEM I created a world of horror, born from the horror Mobius inflicted on me. It was never meant for you or your partner.”

Joseph frowned uncomfortably, the downturn of his eyes indicating some memory retrieval. “Almost three hundred people died in STEM,” he said quietly. “All the doctors, all the patients. In  _ your _ world.”

“You can blame me for that, if you like. But  _ I _ didn’t dissect myself while I was still conscious.  _ I’m _ not the one who turned that machine on again and again, feeding the invalid and insane to it day after day.” The truth throbbed at the base of his throat but he didn’t dare speak her name. “My goals were never as grotesque as theirs, and any of those in the hospital that were of Mobius deserved the pain I bestowed on them.”

Joseph’s expression screwed up harder, but Simon interrupted again, with patience that suggested history between them. “We know what these devils are capable of. They make monsters out of men. But we’ve both seen the communications between Beacon and Mobius--we know that you were complicit in experimenting on and killing innocent people. The only reason we didn’t leave you to rot is because we need your help.”

“I’m aware of that,” said Ruvik, watching as Joseph pushed his glasses back to rub his eyes. “And I’ll do my part.”

“Good. Then I have one more question.” Simon waited a beat to make sure Ruvik was looking at him and then asked, “What do you know about Project Walrider?”

Ruvik frowned, and the word tingled at the back of his mind like a physical presence, spoken through Adam’s voice. “I’ve heard the name,” he said carefully. “But that’s all.”

“From what we know, the STEM never involved drug or hormone therapies, correct?” Simon pressed. “No attempts at mutation or morphogenesis?”

His questions were suddenly fascinating, and Ruvik hated that he didn’t understand their intent better. “No, only sedatives. What is Project Walrider?”

“It’ll be faster if you watch the video,” said Joseph, and he pointed to the tablet Ruvik had abandoned.

Ruvik retrieved it, and Joseph tapped through folders until finding the video file. As he settled back in his seat to watch, an image flashed up of a man strapped into a chair, dressed in a simple beige jumper with numbers printed on it. There were men in white lab coats moving about in the process of some experiment, and the look of horror on their subject’s face made Ruvik nostalgic.

He watched the entire video with rapt attention over the next few hours, letting the cab of the SUV fill with muffled sounds of screaming inmates and the subject’s heavy, panicked breathing. The sight of deformed madmen ripping each other apart was familiar enough to give him goosebumps, and he ached with envy that the interior of the STEM had no means of recording itself. But it was the hazy figure of what must have been the “Walrider” that held him captivated--seemingly formless, but powerful, shredding its victims in seconds. He had been capable of no less when he was Beacon’s god, but he had never expected to see a similar entity that wasn’t the offspring of his own research. He reversed and rewatched every bit of footage that afforded him a glimpse.

“What is this?” he murmured along, his toes curling until they cramped. “Where is this? Is this a product of STEM? The ‘improved’ STEM you mentioned?”

“In a sense,” replied Joseph. “From what we’ve been able to discover, Murkoff took some inspiration from your work at Beacon.”

“Incredible.” Ruvik bit his lip, enjoying the sting. “How did you acquire this video?”

“The star actor is one of us,” said Simon. “You’ll get to meet him soon.”

It was morning by the time they stopped in a small town nestled between the mountains, which consisted of little more than a gas station, a rest stop, and a rusty post office. Simon waited in the car while Joseph went to pay for their fuel, and Ruvik took the opportunity to stretch his legs. Though still not as steady on his feet as he would have liked, he made a slow circle of the parking lot, taking note of the handful of vehicles taking their rest in the cresting light.  _ The Walrider _ , he thought, turning his gaze up to the towering mountains.  _ Does its power come from STEM, as mine did? It took nearly three hundred souls and the full might of STEM for me to leave a mark on the physical world. Did Mobius learn too much from me? _ He leaned against the SUV as Joseph emerged from the gas station with a new man in tow.  _ If it is a product of STEM, who is its core? _

The stranger Joseph was leading toward him was a Korean man in his thirties with thick dark hair, dressed casually with a backpack and a laptop bag slung over his shoulders. He eyed Ruvik with a very appropriate level of mistrust, but Ruvik was only made of curiosity: this was the man from the video.

“This is Waylon,” Joseph introduced once they were in range. “He’s working with us on this. I’m sure you can imagine why.”

“Good to meet you,” Waylon said hurriedly, and he motioned to Simon in the car, who rolled down his window to hear. “But we don’t have time to stand around and chat--we might already be too late.”

“What does that mean?” asked Simon.

Waylon pulled a smart phone out of his shirt pocket and handed it to him while Ruvik and Joseph crowded in closer. “The attack’s already happened,” said Waylon. “But it’s not like what we thought--the president dropped dead, and so did a lot of others. It doesn’t sound anything like the work of the Engine.”

“What?” Joseph took the phone from Simon once he had finished scrolling through news feeds to see for himself. “What the hell? It’s global?”

Ruvik leaned in close to catch a few of the details for himself. “Half the White House cabinet,” he said thoughtfully. “STEM isn’t so selective.”

“Neither is the Engine--this is something else.” Simon motioned for them to get in the car. “But we won’t know for sure until we see for ourselves. We’ll continue to the site.”

The four of them climbed into the car, and Waylon took his phone back, reading off more names of American and world leaders who had expired at the hands of some unidentified threat. Ruvik didn’t recognize most of them and quickly lost interest, turning instead back to the Walrider footage. He took some amusement in glancing between Waylon’s image on the video and as he looked then.  _ This wasn’t long ago, _ he thought, noting the bruises still healing around Waylon’s temple and jaw.  _ If only I still had STEM, and could look directly into his memories myself. _

Ruvik closed his eyes, and he imagined Waylon Park as a tiny point of light in endless black. He remembered the ease with which he had once crept into the minds of his subjects, prying them open. Having already watched the most terrifying moments of the man’s otherwise petty life would hopefully give him an advantage. Without the STEM at his beck and call he could not trace the threads, but he did feel a tug, slightly, like a single hair being plucked. When he opened his eyes again, Waylon was staring at him.

“Did you say something?” he asked, nervous.

_ Did he feel that? _ Ruvik wondered, straightening up in his seat. “What happened to the Walrider after you left the facility?” he asked.

Waylon continued to eye him with suspicion. “I don’t know,” he said. “I got the hell out.”

“There’s been chatter throughout Murkoff that it’s been spotted since then,” said Simon. “Even some rumors that it was destroyed. But I don’t believe that. Hopefully we’ll know more when we reach the site.”

“Indeed,” said Ruvik, and he settled in with the tablet to watch the footage again.

***

For the first time in eight years Sebastian held his baby girl in his arms. He couldn’t stop crying. “I’m okay,” Lily said, over and over, but he kept asking if she was okay anyway. He touched her hair and squeezed her tight. She was taller than he remembered, but not as tall as she should have been.

Juli gave them space. She even left for a while, and when she returned it was with fresh clothes. They had the Mobius emblem embroidered on them and Sebastian became nauseous at the thought that they kept company uniforms in children’s sizes on hand. At least it felt better to be dry; at least he didn’t have to carry his daughter against a shirt stained with alcohol and vomit.

“You should eat something,” Juli said as Sebastian laced Lily’s shoes for her, despite her insistence she could do it herself. “You were in there for hours and I know you barely ate yesterday.”

“Where’s Myra?” Sebastian asked without looking up.

“Sebastian,” Juli said carefully. “Don’t you already know?”

“I know. I mean….” He raised his head to meet her gaze with weary insistence. “ _ Where _ is she?”

Juli leaned back and took a deep breath. “Downstairs,” she relented. “In the...the Union chamber.” Her hesitation made Sebastian wonder if the place had a different name she had just dodged around. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea that we go there, especially with….”

She glanced to Lily, and Sebastian understood well enough. For the last several hours inside of STEM, and God only knew how much longer before then, his poor daughter had been subjected to a mountain of terrors. They both had. He wasn’t even sure himself if he could bare to lay eyes on his wife’s dead body after having shot her through with bullets and said his final goodbyes, let alone push that burden on Lily. But only through Myra’s sacrifice had they escaped, and the thought of leaving her body to rot in the belly of the organization that had destroyed their lives was unbearable. 

He stood, and Lily moved alongside him, squeezing his hand. It helped him reclaim his conviction. “We’re taking her out of here,” he said. “Please, Kidman.”

Juli still looked unconvinced, but she nodded. “All right. I’ll lead you there.” She turned, and they fell into step behind as she led the way out of the main STEM room. “But let me be the one to get her out. I really don’t think it’s a good idea that you look inside that room.”

Sebastian followed with Lily in tow, trying not to dwell on the ominous implications beneath her words. Whatever horrors Mobius still had left to show him, he couldn’t imagine it to be any worse than the nightmares already stacked on each other in his recent and less recent memory. He kept a tight grip on Lily’s hand, shooting her encouraging looks whenever he could catch her eye. When they reached the first group of dead Mobius guards he offered to carry her, but she resisted with a shake of her head, continuing to stare only forward. Sebastian didn’t know if that was a good sign or not, but he didn’t argue.

They reached a locked door, and Juli had to resort to firing several rounds into the control panel to get it to open. “I was planning to come down here after you both had left,” she admitted as they stepped down an immobile escalator. “This place doesn’t have much in the way of explosives, but there’s enough gasoline stored up for the generators that it shouldn’t be too hard to burn what’s left of Mobius to the ground.”

Sebastian cringed momentarily at the mention of fire. It felt ridiculous after everything he had already faced. “Not that I’ll fight you on that,” he said, “but aren’t you worried about what the rest of Mobius will do if they come here and find it in flames?”

“There is no ‘rest of Mobius,’” said Juli. “At least, there shouldn’t be. From what Theodore said, everyone in the organization was chipped, and anyone who found a way to remove theirs would dance on the ashes.”

“According to Theodore, anyway.”

“Yeah.” Juli took a deep breath and carried on. “I guess we’ll see. Either way, I can’t leave here knowing this machine still exists.”

“Me, neither,” Sebastian agreed, keeping pace.

The chamber funneled them into a long hallway, and from there to the facility’s central hub. The interior was deceptively professional, with pristine white walls, glass partitions, even trees and shrubbery growing in small atriums. There were fewer bodies in the hall, but Sebastian could still see plenty within the connecting offices, having locked themselves in while chaos broke out in the STEM chamber. Juli only spared enough attention to them to make sure none were still alive. After three years of living and working behind enemy lines Sebastian expected to see her give some pause to a familiar face, but there was nothing. It made him wonder all over again what it must have been like for her, and Myra, and everyone else trapped under Mobius’ yoke.

She led them down another hall, past sealed doorways and long corridor branching off in different directions. Only the emergency lighting was working in the lower level, bathing everything in eerie red. Sebastian gave Lily’s hand a gentle tug. “You still okay?”

“I’m okay,” Lily replied, almost too quickly.

Finally they reached the last door in the hall. It was a deceptively mundane entryway, with simple security and no visible reinforcements. Sebastian wondered a moment if Juli had made a big deal out of it for nothing. But when she stopped, her face in the off lighting was strained, and she faced Sebastian with her full seriousness. “Stay here.”

“No,” Sebastian said immediately. “I want to know what’s in there.”

“It’s really not a good idea. Just wait here and I’ll—”

“I want to see,” Sebastian insisted. After all the years he had spent mourning an absence, his heart was hard with a need for real closure. He had to see the body. “You wait here with Lily. I’ll be right back.”

He passed Lily’s hand to Juli so that she wouldn’t be able to say no or follow, and then turned toward the doorway. Juli shifted back and forth and finally called after him, “She’s down one stairway and to the left. Try to stay focused, okay?” He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he nodded and continued inside.

Sebastian wasn’t fully prepared for what he found. The door opened into a short corridor, and once out the other side, he came into the room: an immense, round chamber at least a hundred yards across, stretching down several stories into the earth. The center was open, and he could see every ring and layer, each guarded by polished metal rails like something out of a science fiction movie prison. Bathtubs lined every portion of the walls, each bearing a life support monitor droning on in distress, each filled with a corpse. The inhabitants of Union City lay before him, thousands of them vanishing down into the lowest levels of the facility, the stench of their rotting flesh and emptied bowels forming an almost miasma throughout. It reminded him of levels of hell.

“Jesus Christ,” Sebastian muttered, covering his nose and mouth. Inside the STEM it had been easy to write off the town’s mad denizens as spectres and ghouls, creatures that had never been human and couldn’t be saved. The reality before him was a sobering one, and he had to grip the nearest rail as he swayed, nauseated. Not one of them could have been spared but guilt tugged at the back of his conscience nonetheless. All of these people were victims of Mobius, but he couldn’t afford to allow any of them to be found. Not if it meant someone also discovering the STEM.

Sebastian took a few moments to steel himself before finding the stairs leading to the lower landing. He did not have far to go before spotting a computer monitor that was conspicuously blank, not sporting the same bright patient name and comprehensive--deceased--vitals as the rest. With a lump in his throat he started toward it, only to be distracted by voices from above.

Someone was shouting. He couldn’t make out the words but it didn’t sound like Juli, and a moment later gunshots echoed down the corridor. He reached for his belt only to remember he wasn’t carrying a gun, but he hurried back up the stairs anyway. “Kidman!” he called as he reached the door he’d entered through. “Lily!”

The pair of them came rushing down the corridor, Juli squeezing off a few shots behind her as they ran. As soon as they were close Lily threw herself into Sebastian’s arms, and he spun them out of the doorway and into cover. Juli pressed her back to the opposite side as she reloaded her pistol.

“We are agents of the federal government!” a man called from the other end of the corridor. “Toss out your weapons!”

“Like hell!” Juli shouted back. “You think we’d fall for that now?”

“Surrender your weapons _ now _ or we will use lethal force!”

“Wait!” Sebastian yelled, despite Juli shaking her head at him. “Wait, don’t shoot! We have a child!”

There was a pause, and distant chatter as if the man were conferring with a partner. “We want to know what happened here,” he resumed. “If you want to surrender, or if you’re here against your will, we have no reason to hurt you. Throw down your guns and come out.”

“We have no guarantee that you’re not working for them,” Juli retorted. “What’s to say you won’t just shoot us?”

This time it was a woman that answered. “You’re just going to have to trust us, all right?” she shouted with clear frustration. “ _ You’re _ the ones holed up in the mad scientist facility.”

Sebastian ground his teeth as he looked deeper into the chamber. There may have been another exit on the other side, but it would take a long time to round the catwalk with very little cover, not to mention he was already struggling to keep Lily from seeing the extreme number of corpses surrounding them. He was debating over stepping out alone when suddenly Juli’s expression changed. In confusion she turned toward the doorway, gun lowered. “Helena?” she called. “Is that you?”

“Who’s in there?” the woman demanded in reply. “Show yourself already!”

Juli scoffed, and Sebastian had no idea what to make of the relief and irritation twisting her features. “You’re really gonna shoot me this time, Helena?” she goaded as she tossed her gun down the corridor. “That would be real fucking typical.”

“What is going on?” asked Sebastian, Lily clinging to him as they watched Juli raise her hands.

“It’s okay,” she told them. “I think.” 

“Who the hell is that?” the woman shouted, but then Juli stepped into view, and thankfully, wasn’t met with gunshots. Several beats passed and then Sebastian heard an incredulous, “ _ Juli _ ? Is that  _ you _ ?”

Sebastian peeked around the corner, watching in bewilderment as tall brunette in a bulletproof vest came out of cover. She holstered her gun, and Juli lowered her hands as they met in the center of the corridor. After a brief moment of awkwardness, they embraced. “Juli, Jesus!” the woman said with exasperation. “I could have shot you.”

“You didn’t even come close,” Juli retorted with a laugh. She held the woman at arms length and they both grinned, though not without some lingering tension. “Christ, though, are you really a fed?”

“It’s a long story.” Her face darkened with suspicion. “Are you really... _ this _ ?” she asked, gesturing around them.

“That’s a  _ longer _ story, but believe it or not, I’m one of the good guys this time.” She bent down to scoop up her pistol, and the woman reached again for hers until she had stowed it in her belt. “Don’t look at me like that--I promise I can explain. Shit, you haven’t changed at all.”

“She has every right to be cautious,” said the woman’s partner as he joined them. He was dressed for combat, but his dark blonde hair swept across his eyes with a finesse Sebastian found annoying. “Care to explain what the hell is going on here?”

Seeing that no one was about to start shooting, Sebastian hefted Lily in his arms and joined them. “This is Juli Kidman,” the woman was introducing to her partner. But then she paused awkwardly, her face screwing up. “She’s my….”

“I’m her ‘it’s complicated’,” Juli supplied with a shrug. “Or at least, in the past tense, anyway.”

“Leon Kennedy,” the man introduced himself, and Sebastian straightened with recognition. “And this is Helena Harper. We’re with FOS.”

“Sebastian Castellanos, ex-KCPD,” Sebastian took his turn. He gave Lily a pat, but she wouldn’t turn from his shoulder, staring back at the chamber they’d left. “This is Lily.”

“Is she okay?” Helena asked with concern. “I’m so sorry I took a shot at you--I didn’t see her there.”

“She’s okay.” At least, Sebastian hoped she was. She was very still, and his inability to know her real mental state was draining him. “She will be. Can we talk back outside?”

The five of them headed back the way they’d come, Sebastian at the rear. As they put the chamber behind them Lily hugged tighter around his neck. “Mommy’s in there,” she said quietly.

Sebastian gulped. “I know, honey.” He stroked her back. “But she isn’t, not really. I’m sorry.” She fell silent.

“All right, we need some answers,” said Leon once the four of them were in the hall. “As far as we can tell you’re the only survivors here, and we need to know what happened.”

“You won’t believe us,” said Juli, but Sebastian shook his head, answering before Leon had the chance.

“Of course he will,” he said. “He’s Leon Kennedy.” Leon raised an eyebrow, curious and maybe amused, so Sebastian went on. “This facility belongs to an organization called Mobius. They kidnapped my daughter for one of their experiments and I came here to get her back. Kidman here was on the inside, as a mole. She helped me--she’s not one of them.”

Leon and Helena exchanged a wary look before both glancing to Lily. “Is she infected?” Leon asked seriously.

“It wasn’t that kind of experiment,” Juli said quickly, and they both relaxed. “This isn’t a viral facility--it’s virtual reality, thought control.”

“So this  _ is _ where the pulse came from?” asked Helena. “It looks like everyone here died the same way as….”

She hesitated, and Sebastian got a sinking feeling in his stomach. “You did say Mobius was global,” he told Juli, who was growing pale herself. “Just how many people are we talking about?”

“Right now we’re estimating that a quarter million people died this morning, including the President of the United States,” said Leon, and Sebastian clenched his jaws to keep from swearing. “And that’s just the ones we know about. So I’m sure you understand why we need to bring you in.”

“It was the machine that did this, not us,” Juli said quickly. “And the only people it was able to affect are those that belonged to Mobius, president and all. We’re not talking about innocent casualties, we’re talking about members of--of the Illuminati, or whatever you want to think of them as.”

“You can tell all of that to my superiors, but you’re still coming with us.”

Juli looked ready to argue some more, but Sebastian didn’t like the amount of cautious attention Leon was still paying his daughter, and he didn’t want to give either agent an excuse to reach for a gun again. “We’ll go,” he said, and he shot Juli a firm look to make sure she would agree. “We haven’t done anything wrong--we’ll tell you everything.”

“Good.” Leon nodded to Helena, who took the lead while he waited for Juli and Sebastian to start following. “Let’s go.”

As they started to move further away from the chamber, Lily tapped Sebastian’s shoulder to get his attention. “Mommy’s in there,” she said again.

Leon cast her a look. Sebastian hefted her weight and gave her back a gentle pat. “I know. But she’s not waking up, sweetheart. Maybe we can come back for her.”

“Then what are they doing to her now?”

Sebastian felt a chill, and he stopped, turning to look over his shoulder at whatever had her attention. Though they’d already moved far from the chamber door, he could see something flowing past the entrance in hazy waves, and when he strained his ears, he could just barely make out a quiet hiss.

_ Gas? _ Sebastian touched the back of Lily’s head, urging her to hide her nose and mouth against his shoulder. “Kidman, what’s with the gas?”

The rest of them turned to look, and immediately Leon cursed and began pushing Sebastian onward. “You’re  _ sure _ this isn’t a viral facility?”

“We don’t do that here,” said Juli as they each picked up the pace. She led them to a fire safety cabinet, and Helena helped her force the door so they could reach a bundle of gas masks. “I have no idea what that is.”

Each of them grabbed a gas mask, and as Sebastian was helping Lily secure hers, the hissing sound from the chamber was drowned out by a terrible, wet sound, like something viscous being ripped apart.  _ That _ , he was familiar with, and as soon as he and Lily were masked he turned to Juli. “I need a gun.”

Juli handed over her pistol. “There aren’t many bullets left,” she said. “But everything here should be dead.”

As if to answer her, a scream rippled out from the chamber, followed by more tearing, more grotesque squelching. Within seconds the sound was almost deafening, and they could hear echoes of it coming from other doorways, other halls. 

“If only the dead would stay that way for once,” said Leon, holstering his pistol in favor of a shotgun. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

They ran. The noise from the chamber was joined by heavy thumps and screeching of metal, but Sebastian didn’t dare look back. He could well imagine all manner of barbed-wire or else glue-laden monstrosities clawing after them. Having blown out the mechanism on most of the doors reaching the bottom, there was no way to secure the rear as they rushed out of the lab and into Mobius’ central hub. The room of glass was already hazy with a purplish gas, and there Sebastian had no choice but to be confronted with the new breed of beasts.

Each Mobius corpse had been transformed into some manner of hybrid insectoid. Crooked limbs made of glistening exoskeleton had taken the place of arms, or legs, or in some cases, their entire heads. They screamed and chattered and crawled in stomach-churning madness, not so different from enemies Sebastian had already faced, but with one important and terrifying difference: he could see the cause of their mutation in the air, inches from his face. Though they were spared the fear of being set up on by the shrieking Anima, or even the random and inescapable corruption of Ruvik, one wrong shift of the mask would mean the end.

“The C-virus,” said Helena. “Lucky for us.”

“ _ Only _ for us,” replied Leon. He turned to Sebastian and Juli. “Whatever you do, don’t breathe the gas.”

“Yeah, we got that part,” said Juli, and as one of the mutants came rushing at them she opened fire, severing its monstrous limb at the shoulder.

Leon and Helena joined in, forcing the first wave of creatures back far enough that they could all make a run for it. But the beasts were everywhere, crawling out of offices and barreling down corridors. Juli and Helena ended up taking point with Sebastian close behind, Leon holding off their pursuers with the shotgun. They reached the unmoving escalator and and there found only a few moments of rest to reload.

“How many people worked in this facility?” asked Leon as he crammed shells into his weapon.

“Maybe two hundred,” said Juli. “But it’s the twenty-thousand test subjects in the chamber we came from that we need to worry about.”

Helena turned on her in shock. “ _ Twenty-thousand _ test subjects?” 

Leon put his hand to his ear as he urged them all to keep moving up the steps. “Hunnigan, it’s much worse than we thought. This place is crawling with the C-Virus and we don’t have any means of containing them. We’re going to need air support.”

Sebastian clenched his jaws as he held Lily more tightly to his chest. Though he was as eager to see all of Mobius up in flames as he was to escape, he couldn’t stop his imagination from diving deep into the facility where Myra was likely clawing her way out of her tub, only to be incinerated by explosions. He hurried up the escalator behind Juli, praying,  _ Please, don’t let Lily see that _ .

They reached the top of the escalator just as something crashed through the glass doors below. The former residents of Union City bellowed and screeched like nothing Sebastian had ever heard before, drowning out everything else. The five of them fled at top speed, only firing on the Mobius guards and scientists that drew so close they didn’t have a choice. The upper floors were filled with gas and even with the mask Sebastian felt as if his lungs were growing tight. He hadn’t gone through hell twice to give up with his little girl in his arms, though, and he kept that determination pumping through him as they passed the hallway that led into the STEM chamber.

A woman was heading down the corridor. Sebastian only got a glimpse as they hurried past, but her poised silhouette gliding past the horde of clawing monstrosities struck all through him. She wasn’t wearing a gas mask or any other protective gear, and yet had no trouble striding past the mutants without drawing any of their attention. He recognized that smooth, unhurried gait, even if she was dressed in a suit rather than a skirt. Just before falling out of sight she turned her head, just enough for him to glimpse her high cheekbones and thick-rimmed glasses.

There wasn’t time to pause or question. They had just reached the building’s main reception hall when the horde caught up to them--sprinting, scuttling, some flying, all furious and twisted corpses following brainless instinct. The doors were so close, and just beyond them on the open lawn rested a helicopter, it’s door open and blades already spinning. Sebastian was calculating how long it would take all five of them to get safely inside when Leon shouted behind him.

One of the mutants had shot forth a long and twisting tentacle, dragging Leon off his feet. His shotgun split the limb apart but as he struggled to get up the rest of the mass descended in a wave of claws and teeth. Even Juli and Helena firing non-stop with their machine guns did little to impede them. Sebastian put his shoulder to the doors, intending to continue on. Nothing mattered more than his daughter’s safety--maybe if he got her to the chopper he could come back for them, but not until then. But before he could make it through, Lily yanked on his shirt and said, “ _ Wait _ .”

Sebastian was so caught off guard that he actually stopped.  _ Everything _ stopped: the swarms of insectoid mutants halted, shifting but obedient; Juli and Helena ceased firing as they gaped; Leon stared, only half upright, at the oozing jaws only inches from his face. Several tense beats passed, and though the creatures shuddered and hissed, something unseen prevented them from advancing any closer.

Leon made it to his feet. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t stop shooting,” said Lily, her young voice distorted by the gas mask. Everyone turned to gape. “You can’t save them now.”

Sebastian leaned back into the door while the others reloaded their guns. “Lily,” he said, breathless and shaking. “Are  _ you _ doing that?”

“They all lived in my city,” she said. “I’m supposed to take care of them.”

The others opened fire, aiming for eyes and brains, cutting through the horde in swift and methodical execution. Each mutant shrieked and gurgled as it died, but those that were next could do nothing but stand and wait for their bullet. Sebastian shuddered, Lily’s weight in his arms suddenly unbearable. “We have to go,” he said, fighting to be heard over the gunfire and screaming. “If you’re...can you hold them like this while we leave?”

“The bad guys are coming, too. I can’t stop those ones.”

“We’ll run out of ammo before we run out of  _ them _ ,” called Helena. A pair of infected with scorpion faces and Mobius uniforms began pushing their way through the crowd, unaffected by the paralysis--she concentrated her fire on them until they had scattered into ash.

“Back away!” Leon ordered. “Head for the helicopter but don’t stop shooting!”

Sebastian was out the door almost before Leon finished speaking. He raced across the driveway and onto the lawn, where the helicopter pilot stood in the open bay door waving to them. Though baffled, the man helped Lily up into the cabin. “Who the hell are—”

“Get ready to take off--they’re coming!” Only once Lily was safely inside did Sebastian turn back, pistol at the ready. The others had cleared the building doors and were still shooting, glass shattering and creatures screaming. A few more in Mobius uniforms had shoved their way through but Juli and the agents sure knew what they were doing, picking them off before concentrating back on Lily’s “townspeople.”

They were still a few feet away when the control slipped, and what remained of the horde surged forward with renewed fury. In desperation Sebastian turned back toward the copter for a better weapon and found, snug against the inside of the cabin, and pair of red-labeled grenades. He yanked them from their holster and pulled both pins at once. “Kid!”

Juli glanced back, and seeing what he held she grabbed Helena by her vest and started to drag her toward the copter. Though Leon caught on quickly enough he didn’t retreat at first, firing off the rest of his shotgun as Sebastian heaved the grenades into the approaching army. He counted the seconds under his breath, and just before the explosives went off both men turned, throwing themselves into the chopper.

“Go!” shouted Helena, and the blades took them upward, just as the infected were enveloped in a fiery explosion. The blast had them all swaying as the copter pitched, but the pilot quickly wrangled it under control, and they made a hasty ascent.

Sebastian dragged himself deeper to make sure Lily was secure a seat and then took his gas mask off. “That won’t be enough.”

Leon unmasked, staying at the door to watch the writhing creatures. “There are F-16s on the way to bomb the place. BSAA will send a team to handle any stragglers.”

“The C-virus isn’t transmitted by individual BOWs, and there’s a vaccine,” explained Helena as she thumped into a seat. “The gas is flammable, so as long they take out the facility, we should be able to contain this.” She glanced to Leon. “Right?”

“Right,” said Leon, and he closed the door. But when he turned back to the others as they unmasked and settled, his eyes were hard. “Except for her,” he added, nodding toward Lily.

Sebastian’s hand went to the pistol in his belt. “She’s not infected.”

“There’s only one thing that can control one of these viruses,” said Leon, and as his hand went to  _ his _ pistol, Helena and Juli tensed, exchanging a quick, anxious look. “And that’s someone infected by it.”

“She’s  _ not _ infected,” Sebastian insisted, putting himself in front of Lily. Her hand gripping his pant leg made  _ his _ hand tighten on the grip of the gun. “And if you draw that gun I’m throwing you out of this chopper so you can remember what real infected look like.”

“Whoa, calm down, Seb,” said Juli, trying to maneuver beside him in the tight space. “No one’s pulling a gun in here.”

“We can’t even be sure the kid is one that did that,” offered Helena. “We’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It was me,” said Lily, and Sebastian gulped, sweat on his brow. He couldn’t risk looking back with Leon watching them so closely, but her small hands were like steel weights. “I had to stop them from killing us. But I’m not a monster.”

Leon grimaced; Sebastian had heard plenty of rumors about Agent Kennedy and what he was capable of, and he was relieved to see the man display at least some struggle at the thought of executing a little girl. “You said they experimented on her,” Leon reasoned. “And then the C-virus is loose, twenty-thousand strong, and she can control them.” Though he clearly hated to do it, he let his hand fall from his gun. “You’re her father, I get it. But love of family has  _ never _ stopped one of these viruses from doing what it’s designed to do. If she’s infected, she’ll tear you apart whether she wants to or not.”

“I really don’t care if she does,” Sebastian replied, and he reached down, covering her hand with his. “She can kill all of you, too, for all it matters to me.” He lowered his voice. “But if you put one fucking finger on her, you’re a dead man.”

The pair glared at each other a moment longer, but suddenly the copter pitched, and both had to reach for straps on the wall to stay upright. “Buckle in!” the pilot called from the cockpit, and as they banked away from the facility Sebastian could hear a roar of approaching engines. “I’ll get us clear!”

Sebastian took the seat next to Lily with Helena and Juli across. Leon stayed by the door. The blast hit a few seconds later, brilliant white and orange flaring through the windows. Sebastian covered Lily’s eyes and hugged her close as the cabin rocked and instruments wailed. “It’s all right,” he whispered close to her ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I’m okay,” Lily reassured him, still sounding much  _ more _ okay than their situation dictated she should. 

Another two explosions followed, only slightly less severe as they continued to move away from the building. At last the pilot had them under control again, and Leon turned to get a look out the window of the bombers’ handiwork. “Looks like a good hit,” he said, and when he turned back he looked straight to Lily again as if they had never been interrupted. “We’re taking you back to base,” he said firmly. “All of us will need to be checked out and debriefed. They’ll be able to make sure she’s clean.”

“I’m not leaving her side until then,” Sebastian insisted. “Not even to go into separate rooms. Do you understand me?”

Leon sighed. “Yes, I understand. And I really hope she  _ is _ clean, for all our sakes.”

Sebastian didn’t reply, waiting until Leon had finally settled in for the ride before taking his eyes off him. “You’ll be fine,” he told Lily again. “Everything will be okay now.”

“I know. I keep telling you.” Lily took his hand, her face calm and confident. “I’m fine.”

***

At 0800 hours the call came down. The BSAA withdrew from the Dulvey Bayou to minimum safe distance and watched as what remained of the mutamycete contaminated area was cleansed in a rigorous fire-bombing.

Cheryl took her mask off to watch. She expected her captain would have something to say about that if he were there, but she wanted an unfiltered view of the blaze streaking across dozens of acres of Louisiana swampland. Even from so far away she could feel the heat against her cheeks and her eyes stung against the glare. It made every inch of her skin prickle with pins and needles, as if it were shriveling up in the flames just like the spanish moss and screaming fungi.

Next to her, Alex lifted his mask. “I don’t know if it’s cathartic,” he said, “or if I’m jealous.”

Cheryl kept her gaze on the inferno steadily consuming the Baker estate and all surrounding land. “Jealous?”

“Yeah, you know. It’s so...final.” He shrugged, gesturing to another group of weary spectators behind them. “They’ve been through hell, but at least this place is being wiped off the map. I sure wish I had that piece of mind.”

Cheryl didn’t want to, but she glanced back anyway: Dr. Mia Winters was watching the fire, too, bandaged up with her arm in a sling, huddled under her husband’s arm. Her face was hard and mournful. It felt too familiar, especially when combined with the long, dark hair framing her heart-shaped face, and Cheryl quickly looked away again. 

Of course Alex noticed. “Even after all this time, it still feels too close to home, huh? Seeing them like that.”

“What they went through isn’t anything like what either of us went through,” said Cheryl.

“No, but still….” He sighed. “It does make you wonder how many more of these there has to be.”

Cheryl frowned. She had crawled out of her own personal hell years ago, and even in that immediate aftermath had assumed there would soon be another to take its place. And another, and another. So far the world had made good on that, and she didn’t expect it to change any time soon. But when she looked to Alex, watching him watch the bayou sputter and melt, she wondered, too. How many people were out there just like them, or would be, watching their hells burn?

“Shepherd, Mason,” called Chris, and Alex hurried to replace his mask. He was still a ways off, though, so Cheryl took a moment to turn to Alex.

“Fire is a shitty way to go,” she told him. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone or even any place.” Alex nodded with understanding, and she put her mask back on. Above all else, she could always count on him to understand.

“Saddle up,” said Chris, hefting his rifle over his shoulder. “We’re leaving the rest of the cleanup to Bravo Team. There’s a chopper waiting to take us to the airfield.”

“What about your imposter?” asked Alex, his feathers still ruffled by the very idea. “I thought we were waiting for the fire to smoke him out.”

Chris shook his head. “We don’t have the time. Something major’s going down in Washington, and there’s a C-Virus outbreak north of here. We’re meeting up with another unit to help contain it.” 

Dr. Winters and her husband were headed their way. Cheryl kept an eye on them, not that she really expected either was a threat. “You don’t think this entire outbreak was a diversion, do you?” she asked, loudly enough that Mia would hear, and hopefully betray some reaction in her face. Mia’s grimace spoke volumes.

“I’m sure it is,” replied Chris, noting the direction of her stare. “If the report I just got is true, we’re looking at a quarter of a million dead worldwide, and whoever’s behind it isn’t done yet.”

“Jesus,” said Alex, tightening his gas mask. “C-virus?”

“Unclear. But we need to move.” By then Mia and Ethan had reached them, and Chris turned toward them. “You’re staying here so they can finish clearing you.”

“Take me with you,” Mia said immediately. “I can help.”

“Mia, there’s still a bullet in your shoulder,” Ethan reminded her. “And did you just hear how many people are dead?”

“It’s going to get worse,” Mia insisted, and Chris and his team faced her seriously. “ _ Much  _ worse. This may not have been an intentional diversion, but if the man behind this is who I think it is, you’re going to need my help.”

“Your expertise?” Chris asked coldly. “Or your intel?”

“Both.” Mia cast a quick, apologetic look at Ethan before explaining. “I’m a molecular biologist. I helped create the mutamycete you’re burning over there, and I’ve studied the C-virus, Uroboros, Las Plagas--all of them. Whatever is coming next, I’m your best chance of understanding it.”

“Uroboros was wiped out a decade ago,” said Chris, lowering his rifle into a more ready position. “Who do you work for that would still have a sample?”

Mia fell quiet, though not nearly as quiet as her stunned husband. There was no telling how long she planned to hold out, and with the heat growing behind them and a whole mess of trouble ahead, Cheryl wasn’t willing to wait and find out. “Captain, they might as well come with us,” she said. “Now that she’s admitted all that, I sure don’t like the idea of her going anywhere unsupervised, and Bravo Team is already stretched thin here.”

“Agreed,” said Chris, though his voice was still hard with suspicion. “Shepherd, make sure they’re both cleared to travel. The field office we’re headed to has a quarantine facility, so they can undergo a more thorough screening there.”

Alex straightened. “Yes, sir.”

“Move out.” 

Chris started off, and Cheryl motioned for Mia and Ethan to follow, while Alex hurried to confirm with the onsite medical staff. “Thank you,” Mia said, offering Cheryl a weary but grateful smile.

“You won’t be thanking me if we’re headed right into a C-virus outbreak,” Cheryl replied. “And even if you’re able to help us, it’s only going to knock a few years off of what’s bound to be a very lengthy prison sentence for you.”

“I know,” said Mia. “That’s why I’m thanking you.”

Cheryl frowned and wasn’t sure how to respond. They made their way to the helicopter they’d arrived in, waiting only long enough for Alex to return with Team Bravo’s blessing. Then they were airborne, swinging north and putting the flaming bayou behind them. Alex and Ethan both watched the blaze for as long as it was visible, but Chris kept his gaze ahead of them, and Mia watched Cheryl.

“What was your name again?” Mia asked, barely audible over the sweeping blades. 

“I’m Agent Mason,” Cheryl introduced herself. “Cheryl Mason. Why?”

“You and your team saved our lives,” said Mia. “I’m very grateful.”

Cheryl nodded. It wasn’t a complete dodge of the question, but it felt like one somehow. Strange, when she got the impression that Dr. Mia Winters would likely have proved to be a very accomplished liar if called upon. But she let it go. They had much larger concerns to worry about.


End file.
